


for who could ever learn to love a beast?

by somnia_tuan



Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst, Beauty and the Beast AU, Fairy Tale Curses, Fluff, M/M, Vampire Bites, Vampires, halloween fic, mark is a vampire, not set in present day, sexy bite locations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:21:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27070030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somnia_tuan/pseuds/somnia_tuan
Summary: Every year, one unlucky person is sent out into the forest as the sun sets, lost to the woods and presumably taken by the monster. When Bambam sets off on the trek into the forest, he comes across an old manor and an even older curse lurking somewhere inside.
Relationships: Kunpimook Bhuwakul | BamBam/Mark Tuan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

The fire burned taller as more wood was added, the autumn setting sun causing the yellow and red of the firepit to burn brighter than normal. Bambam watched as it grew, eyes following the sparks that the wind took away into the darkening forest. It was that time of the year again, when the chill in the air bit at his cheeks, the dark came quicker, and the town grew scared again. There was a long time belief in the little village of Lockinge that a monster lived in the dark forest that surrounded their perimeter. He doesn’t know when it began, the legend lost as generations continued but they gather around every October to sacrifice someone to the monster. 

One unlucky person is sent out into the forest as the sun sets, lost to the woods and presumably taken by the monster. No one’s ever returned but Bambam just thinks they get lost and die out there. He doesn’t believe in it really even though he double locks his doors and windows every night. 

“We’ve decided!” A loud voice rings out, causing the crowd to quiet down. Bambam doesn’t let his eyes stray from the sparks, following them until they burn out. “Our sacrifice this year, I’m sorry that you must do this for all of us, but Bambam.” 

He looks out towards the voice, walking through the crowd and moves around the fire pit. The heat licks at his face causing him to turn away and head towards the edge of the crowd. A few men stand around, handing him a cloak before stepping away. He slings it on, tying it around his neck and slips the hood on. He takes the road out into the woods - the one that goes to the abandoned well - and lets his feet take him away, the sounds of the crowd fading away. 

~

He stumbles around in the dark, it’s getting harder to see in front of his face when his feet touch down on a stone pathway. He stops, dropping down to run his hand on the stone and carefully follows it. He pushes leaves over, nerves growing as night falls faster. His feet move quicker, the distance cries of wolves causing his chest to tighten, feet moving faster down the path. He can only hope he finds a shelter to hide in during the night and he’s not moving towards the wolves. 

He begins to slow down when the trees begin to thin out, the stone path beneath his feet widening. He stops, taking in the small old manor at the end of the pathway. He walks carefully, his cloak blows behind him, Bambam stopping to pull it tight as the wind picks up. Bambam kicks a few small branches out of his way as he makes his way to the door. It’s a dark black, the wood aged from years and Bambam reaches for the brass doorknob. 

He turns it, pushing the door open and steps inside. He closes the door immediately, locking it behind him and turns back to the foyer. He steps further inside, following the dirty red rug down until he’s standing at a mouth of a hallway. Bambam takes small steps, turning in a circle as he takes in the house. He doesn’t know how long this manor has been here, let alone abandoned, but it will make do for the night. 

He spots a door half open, hurrying towards it and pushes the door open. Inside is a small seating room, couches facing an empty and dark fireplace. He steps up, spotting wood and immediately gets to work on creating a small enough fire to keep him warm. 

~

Bambam hums a slow song, one from his childhood that he barely remembers the words to, as he warms his hands over the fire. He’s taken his hood down, letting the warmth wash over him. He stretches his legs out next to him, making himself comfortable when the feeling of something watching him comes over him. He pulls at the cloak again, turning around and studying the room. 

“Hello?” He says cautiously. “Is anyone there? I’m sorry for being in your house, it’s just, it’s late and I need somewhere to stay for the night.” 

He doesn’t get an answer, turning back to the fire and crouches. He’s feeling his eyes start to drift shut when the feeling comes back again. He’s just turning around, to study his surroundings when a man rushes into the room.

“Who-”

Bambam panics, falling to his knees, hands clasped together. “Please don’t kill me!”

“What?” The man stops, standing a few feet away from Bambam, hidden in shadow. “Kill you? Why would I -” The man cuts himself off, laughing loudly. Bambam is taken aback by the playfulness of it. “Are you talking about the village that sends people out to be sacrificed to the monster?” 

Bambam stands up, pulling the cloak tight and takes a step forward. The man continues to laugh, moving slightly into the light the fire casts and Bambam freezes. Bright white teeth shine in the darkness but that’s not what catches his attention - it’s the fangs that stick out, sharp and dangerous. Bambam’s breathing picks up, falling back to his knees and shakes. 

“Please don’t kill me!” Bambam begs, eyes never leaving the man’s fangs. 

“I’m not going to kill you,” The man says seriously. “I’m not the monster that your village thinks is in the forest because there isn't one. I’ve seen people stumble around the forest for years only to die to bears and wolves.” The man studies him a bit before moving towards the door again. “I’ll let you stay in my seating room for the night but you have to be gone by morning.” He slams the door shut leaving Bambam alone with the fire and his thoughts. 

~

Bambam rolls over, hands fisted in his cloak and shifts to get comfortable again. The couch he’s laying on isn’t the most comfortable but the fire dying out sometime in the middle of night is what is making him the most uncomfortable. He sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and looks around. He gets up clumsily, moving over to the window and pulls back the curtain. It’s about noon, the sun up high above him and Bambam looks back around the room. It looks unlived in - he doesn’t want to think about the man from the night before. He’s hoping that he was a dream, he thinks as he moves out of the room and heads back into the foyer. 

He looks up and down the long hallway, stretching left and right and follows down past the seating room. He finds a small staircase, the wood creaking underneath his feet as he peaks around the corner, finding a small kitchen. He rushes in, stomach winning over mind, and opens the pantry door. He lets out a small gasp, finding it stocked and takes down a loaf of bread and some cheese. Bambam steps back into the kitchen, finding a small table in the corner and sits down, digging in. 

~

Bambam stands back in the foyer, chewing on his lip as he looks around. He’s been slowly exploring the rooms of the manor, finding more unlived in rooms on the first floor and but now he has to venture onto the second floor. He takes the steps up, cloak trailing behind him and stands at the top of the stairs. It’s darker here, Bambam holding a hand out in front of him, feeling along the wall. He opens a door to find a library, curtains dark and closed tight keeping any sunlight out. He leaves the door open, moving further down when he opens a door, the panic from the night before refills him. 

The man from the night before lays asleep in the bed, the top of his head peeking out from the top of the covers. Bambam steps away, closing the door slightly, eyes never leaving the sleeping form of the man. He makes sure the door is shut carefully, spiriting away and back down the stairs. He runs into the seating room, slamming the door behind him and tucking himself into a small ball in front of the fireplace, watching the sunset lower and lower. 

~

The door opens causing Bambam to whip around finding the man glaring at him at the doorway. “Didn’t I tell you to leave?!” 

“You did! But,” Bambam turns around, kneeling. “I can’t go back, I meant to be the sacrifice.”

“But if you went back, they would know there is no monster!” The man yells causing Bambam to jump slightly. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled. But if you went back, they would stop killing people every year.” 

The man comes into the room, shutting the curtain and makes sure the window is completely closed. Bambam watches him, carefully moving to sit on the couch as the room grows dark. The man turns around, sighing, and Bambam can’t help but stare at his fangs that poke out from underneath his lips. 

“What are you?” Bambam asks, his voice coming out as a whisper. The man looks up at him, Bambam notes in the low light that the man has two different colored eyes, one brown and one blue. “You keep saying there’s no monster but you have fangs.” 

“I’m a vampire.” The man says, sighing loudly. He turns around and begins creating a fire in the fireplace. “You know, it’s rude of you knowing what I am but I don’t know your name.” 

Bambam watches him build up the fire, whipping his hands onto his pants, standing back up. He turns to face him, the fire causing Bambam to sweat a bit. “My name is Bambam.”

“Nice to meet you. Now -”

“Who are you?” Bambam asks, leaning forward a bit. 

“Mark.” He says, eyes casting down. “What I was going to say was -”

“So you’re a vampire,” Mark sighs as Bambam cuts him off again. “But you’re not the monster. Then why are you here? I guess that’s a bit rude to ask someone why they live where they do, but how did the legend about a monster begin and there’s a vampire living in the woods…”

“I’ve been cursed to be kept in the house and forgotten. So your village is probably aware that there’s something in the woods but not sure what.” Mark moves towards the door, Bambam’s voice stopping him again.

“Why were you cursed?” Bambam turns around, looking over the back of the couch. Mark looks at him, eyes studying his face before he leaves out the door of the seating room, disappearing into the darkness of the house.


	2. Chapter 2

Bambam yawns as he pushes open the library door, shuffling inside the cold and dark room. He’s up later than he’s used to, the sun has already risen high into the blue sky and with the chill setting in, winter is coming faster and faster. He shuts the door behind him, moving to pull open the heavy curtains and quickly makes a fire in the large marble fireplace. He’s spent some of the previous night thinking about the curse that is supposedly placed on Mark, unable to think about anything else before falling asleep. He had tried to think about the village, wondering if anyone had missed him and just couldn’t get his mind off the mysterious man in the house. He finishes, brushing his hands onto his pants and turns towards the rows and rows of books. 

He cautiously steps over to the bookcase closest to him, eyes scanning the titles of books. The village had a small amount of reading material, making him a bit of a slow reader, means that the amount of reading material covering the walls are very daunting. He slides a book off the shelf, opening the cover and slowly flips through the old pages. He wants to help with the curse and he thinks maybe a book will have an answer. He shuts the one he’s holding, gathering a few more and heads to the couch in front of the fireplace. 

~

He doesn’t know how much time has passed until the door to the library opens slowly, Mark peeking inside. He’s gotten through a few bookcases, passing on the ones that he’s struggled to understand that are now somewhere in the piles of books on the floor in front of him. Mark hurries over to the window, tucking the curtains closed tightly and comes to sit next to him. 

He feels Mark’s eyes wandering on him, “Why don’t you want to go back home?”

Bambam looks up and over at him, pulling the book closer. “Um, I just don’t want to.”

“You don’t miss your family?” Mark asks, picking up the book off the top of the pile closest to him. 

“I do but I don’t have to go back to do that.” Bambam turns the page, eyes trained on the words, a finger sliding underneath a sentence. 

Mark cocks his head, placing the book on his lap. He runs his hand over the leather covering, “What does that mean?”

“They died a while ago,” Bambam whispers, the fire cracking loudly. “I’m all alone.”

“Oh, I am as well.” Mark says, letting silence fall over them. He begins flipping through the book, wondering why Bambam is reading about politics in the 14th century and shuts it. 

“I hate living there.” Bambam says, shutting the book on his lap. “The same thing, every day, alone from morning to night. At least here, I can explore something new.” 

Mark nods, “What are you doing anyway? Why do you want to know about the 14th century?”   
  
“Is that what’s that about?” Bambam laughs slightly. “I didn’t know. I’m trying to learn about curses.” 

Mark laughs, picking up a stack of books and gets up from the couch. “Yeah, I don’t think you’re going to find answers in here.” 

“Why not?” He stands up quickly, moving to help him put the books back on the shelves. “Are there no books about curses?”   


“No, there aren’t.” Mark says, watching Bambam shelve the books. “Also my curse can’t be answered from texts.”   


Bambam whips around, eyes wide, a smile forming. “What does that mean? Tell me, I want to help.” 

“No, I’ve said enough.” Mark hands him the last book, moving back to the fireplace. He works on it silently, ears trained on Bambam’s movements. He spends more time than he needs to poking the fire, as Bambam puts all the books back. He turns around when once he’s done, finding Bambam’s eyes drooping, climbing back onto the couch. “Stay here, I’ll make us some tea.” 

“Do you need a fire?” Bambam mumbles. “I’m sorry that was rude, just, do vampires get cold?”

Mark can’t help but smile. “Yeah I still get a bit cold. It’s, just, um, easier for me to get colder. I’ll be right back.” 

~

Mark comes back with a tray, pushing it carefully into the library. Bambam is still on the couch, curled up under his cloak, eyes watching the fire. Mark stops it in front of the couch, pouring a cup out and handing it to him. He repeats the process for himself, sitting down and pulls his legs underneath him. Bambam blows on the drink before sipping it slowly. 

“Can I know more about your village?” Mark asks, watching him. “I haven’t really left my house since I was little and I want to know what it was like there. Especially since you don’t want to go back.”

Bambam nods, tracing the rim of his cup. Mark can’t help but focus on the movement, eyes unable to be teared away. He gets like this, his heightened senses get caught on something small, finding it hard to look away. “I don’t really have much to tell you, it’s small. Not a lot of action happens, the most excitement that comes around is when a baby is born but… it’s a small village, there isn’t really anything else to do so births are common.” 

“And you’re alone? No one in town keeps you company?” 

“I mean, I talked to my neighbors but not really.” Bambam stretches his legs out before pulling back up to his chest. “Knowing one of you will be sent out into the forest to be killed kinda stops you from making relationships, especially when you don’t have a family.”

“You don’t think they sent you because you’re alone?” Mark asks, eyes trained on his face. “Bambam?”

“I mean, who knows.” Bambam finishes his drink. “I wouldn’t be surprised, it’s not like I brought anything to the village.”

“I doubt that.” Mark whispers, Bambam looking up at him. “You’ve been here for three days and already…. I feel like it would be odd without you here.”

“Mark?” 

“Stay.” Mark says, getting up and cleaning up their drinks. “You can stay.” He doesn’t look behind him even when he hears the small gasp. “I feel like you already gave yourself a tour of the place but I can show you around tomorrow when you’re not falling asleep.” 

He turns, a hand out for the cup. Bambam looks up at him, eyes wide. He carefully passes the cup, their fingers brushing up against the others. “Thank you.” 

Mark nods, placing Bambam’s used cup down on the try and clumsily pushes the tray out of the room. He turns, finding Bambam curling up to go to sleep and carefully shuts the door. He pushes the tray down the dark hallway, trying to tell himself that the decision for letting Bambam stay is a good one. 


	3. Chapter 3

Mark rubs the sleep from his eyes, heading down the hallway towards the library. He yawns, pushing the door open, finding the fire dying with a chill setting into the room. He shuffles inside, stopping short when he finds Bambam curled up on the couch, fast asleep. He steps closer, brushing the hair out of his face carefully, stepping back quickly when Bambam shifts in his sleep, looking for the presence of his hand. He pulls his eyes away, stroking the fire to keep the room warm and sits down in front of it. 

He watches the light of the fire dance across Bambam’s peaceful features, his mind travelling to the events of the past week. He’s finding time to be moving quicker with Bambam here, never dreading waking up to wander the halls of his own house. He’s spent a few hours of his day, when he slides into his bed, just fighting himself over allowing him here. But while he punishes himself, he can’t help but notice how much Bambam has brightened up since he told him he could stay. The implication that Bambam was sent away because he was alone has yet to leave his mind, knowing how much that mirrors his own life. 

They’ve spent every night together since, not like they have any other choice, but it’s starting to become something Mark looks forward to. And he knows it’s something that Bambam looks forward to as well, finding him sitting outside his bedroom door with two cups of tea waiting for him to wake up. He looks away from Bambam’s face, laughing softly at the new pile of books and gets up to return them to their places. 

He’s almost done when Bambam’s voice calls out for him, “Mark?” 

His hand freezes in place, his heart melting at the softness and sleepiness that laces his voice. He turns around the corner of the aisle he’s in, still holding the book to find a sleepy Bambam, blinking slowly at him. He smiles, leaning his head against the back pillows of the piece of furniture when he sees him. Mark almost drops the book he’s holding, taking it with him and walks towards the couch silently. 

“Hey, you can go back to sleep.” Mark fights himself from reaching out and cupping his face. He notes how soft his face looks, his eyes heavy with sleep.

“But I want to help,” Bambam mumbles, staring up at him. “Stop putting my books away, I can’t find a solution for your curse if you keep stopping my progress.” 

“I told you there’s no solution for me in them.” Mark smiles sadly. “You don’t need to help me.”

“But I want to.” Bambam yawns, nuzzling his head on the fabric of the couch. Mark smiles, feeling a warmth grow in his chest. “I think it would kinda be lonely being cursed…”

Mark wants to scream. He tries to back away, finish putting away the books and let Bambam fall asleep but his mouth betrays him. “It is.” 

He reaches a shaking hand out, tucking some of Bambam’s hair behind his ear. Bambam purrs at the movement, eyes closing. “Can you tell me about it? Maybe you’ll feel a little less lonely.” Mark goes to pull his hand away, that’s still placed against Bambam’s face when Bambam turns his face into the palm of it, lips brushing against his skin. “Mark, tell me….”

“Okay,” Mark stands up, hand moving away and walks around to sit on the couch. Bambam shifts, turning to face him, eyes still heavy. “I am meant to be the monster in the woods, the one that your village thinks kills people.” 

“Why?” Bambam yawns, eyes searching him. “You’re not like that, you’re not bad.” 

Mark laughs, emotion choking him. He doesn’t want Bambam to be stuck with him, he should have never let him stay. “But my parents were.” 

Bambam blinks slowly, “But why make you a vampire? Can you not die, is that the curse?”

“No,” Mark shakes his head. “Let me explain everything okay?” Bambam nods. “There was a sickness that spread in the village not far from here, your village. Some of the leaders had come to ask my parents for money to get medicine but they denied them. They didn’t want to catch it themselves, they didn’t want me to catch it. One of the leaders cursed them, saying that their child would be unloved and lonely because of their actions. He would be a monster in the woods, no one would come to give him company. A few days later, in the middle of the night, I started having the shakes, then a fever, then for a brief moment I died.” 

“You died?” Bambam reaches his hand out a bit, landing palm up in front of him. He stares at it.

“Then I came back, my teeth pointer than before, my appetite gone. My parents realized that the curse was literal, I had changed into a monster.” Mark shakily reaches out, linking their pointer fingers together. “No one would care for a monster.” 

“But what happened to your parents?” 

“They died years later meaning I’ve been alone like I’m meant to be. A lonely monster in the woods.” Bambam pulls on his hand, Mark tries to let go, assuming he doesn’t want to touch him when Bambam grabs his hand, linking their fingers together. He looks up, finding brown eyes filled with tears. “Don’t cry for me, please, I’m not worth your tears.” 

“But look,” Bambam sits up, awake now. “You’re not alone anymore, I’m here. You aren’t a monster, I’m not scared of you. None of that was your fault, it shouldn’t have happened.”

Mark studies his face. “You are here.” He says softly, letting their joined hands sit in the middle of them on the couch. Bambam rests his head back down on the couch. “It might not be my fault but that doesn’t mean I’m not to be …..” 

“What?” Bambam asks. “Not meant to be what?”

Mark looks down again, eyes trained on their hands. He feels the warmth of Bambam’s on his, his colder hand, paler than how his skin used to look. He should have never have told him. “Nothing.” Mark pulls away, looking at the fire. “It’s nothing.”

Silence falls over them, Mark turning to look at him after a while, finding him fast asleep. He hopes that maybe Bambam will think he dreamt this all up, hoping that Bambam never asks about the rest. He doesn’t need to put the burden of needing someone to be in love with him on Bambam, he has a life to live, Mark has a house to haunt. He’ll have to tell him to go back home when he wakes up, he shouldn’t be worrying about a lonely monster in the woods anymore.

~

Bambam wakes up, stretching, finding the library empty. The fire roars, causing him to get up and peek outside. He pushes the curtains aside carefully, knowing that Mark will need them completely closed to be able to come back into the room and quickly shuts it when the light blinds him. He blinks a bit, getting used to the change in brightness and looks outside again. 

The wood goes on for miles around them, Bambam can’t even guess which way the direction of his village is. He shuts the curtains, tucking them together, and moves back to the couch. His mind goes over the information Mark had told him the day before, or that morning since it was way past midnight, but his heart squeezes tightly in his chest when he thinks about the sentence Mark cut himself off with. He wonders what else the curse has, wondering if he can be the answer. 


	4. Chapter 4

The halls echo with Bambam’s laughter, Mark pushing him slightly as they make their way into the seating room. They had been in the middle of eating - dinner for Bambam and breakfast for Mark - when Bambam confronted him about his cleaning habits. 

“Do you not realize your house is a mess?” Bambam asked, washing his dishes. “I’ve been here a month and you haven’t cleaned up anything besides my reading material.” 

Mark had stopped for a moment, mind going over the time and was stumped to find out that it had been a month since Bambam had wandered into his house that one night in autumn. He had risked it for a second, looking outside one of his windows to find a layer of snow on the ground, the cold brisk. It had taken an hour afterwards, hiding under his covers, trying to get his skin to stop feeling like it was going to burn off. He hadn’t told Bambam this, keeping it to himself. 

“Then, we’ll go clean up the seating room. Pretty sure the last person in there made it a mess.” Mark joked, putting his dishes into the sink and freezing when he looked up. They were close, breathing in the same air and Mark nervously took a step back. 

They’ve been doing that more and more, hands being held, or Bambam sitting next to him on the couch so their shoulders are up against the other’s. He hasn’t stopped it, even though his mind tells him to push Bambam away before he gets any ideas, ideas that plague his thoughts when he sleeps. The ones where it starts off with Bambam next to him then it changes quickly to flashes of skin and fangs, Bambam’s voice echoing in his mind. Those dreams always end with Mark shooting up in bed, scrubbing his face trying to block the images. But they come back stronger and stronger, Mark grasping out for the Bambam smiling at him, fangs pointing out from behind his plush lips. 

He shakes his head, trying to forget them now, leaving them for later when he’s alone, while Bambam pushes open the door. The room looks the same but if Bambam wants to clean up, he’ll be more than happy to help him - whatever makes him happy. He panics when the thought hits him, dusting down the room quicker as Bambam straightens up.

Bambam sits on the couch as Mark starts up the fire again, eyes trained on his back. “So, I have some questions.” 

“Oh boy,” Mark laughs, turning around, sitting on the floor in front of him. “That always means trouble.” 

Bambam whines, “It doesn’t!” They laugh before Bambam settles down. “But really, can I ask you a few?”

“Of course,” Mark leans back on his hands. “You never have to ask me that, so go right ahead.”

“You eat food but…. Don’t vampires drink blood?”

“I do, though food has the same results.” Mark rubs at the back of his neck. “Blood just...um, excites me more.”

“Excites?” 

“Gives me more energy, I would prefer blood if it was accessible. But I don’t mind eating food.” Mark bites his lip, eyes avoiding Bambam’s gaze. “What else?” 

“You obviously dislike daylight…”

“I hate it.” Mark says, looking at the heavy curtains. “It burns.” 

“Do you sleep in a coffin?” Mark laughs, his body shaking. “Mark!”

“Bam, I have a bed. You’ve been outside my bedroom door.” Mark looks at him, bursting out into laughter again. “Do I have a coffin!” 

“I’m never asking you questions again.” Bambam yawns. “You’re mean.” 

“I’m sorry,” Mark gets up, brushing his pants off. “Why don’t you go to sleep, it’s late for you.”

“This is the only time I can talk to you,” Bambam yawns again. “And the library couch isn’t all that comfortable.”

“Is that really where you sleep?” Mark stops, looking at him. 

“I can’t find another bed, so yes.” Bambam lays down on the couch. “I’ll sleep here.”

“Just go sleep in my bed.” Mark slaps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. Bambam’s eyes shoot open and up, locking with Mark’s. The tension in the room grows thick, neither of them moving. Bambam sits up slowly, never breaking eye contact. Mark speaks slowly, “Follow me.”

He shoots out of the door, hearing Bambam’s footsteps behind him and brings him up the staircase, down the hallway. He pushes open his bedroom door before he can second guess himself, allowing Bambam inside. The room is darker than the rest of the house, burnt down candles litter the room’s surfaces. A dark red blanket lays neatly on his bed, curtains pulled back on the canopy. 

He turns around, finding Bambam behind him and nods. “You can rest here, I don’t need it when you do.” He watches Bambam pull back the blanket, climbing in and Mark takes a deep breath. A dream he hasn’t had in a week comes floating up and Mark immediately pushes it away. Bambam covers himself up, sliding down and lays his head on the pillow. He can see him shift even in the darkness, getting comfortable and Mark almost loses it. Bambam shouldn’t be uncomfortable but this is too much for him right now. He walks up to the side, kneeling up on the bed. “Bam?”

There’s no answer, exhaustion taking Bambam into a deep sleep quickly. He leans down, kissing his forehead before pulling back and leaving the room.

~

Bambam slowly opens his eyes to complete darkness, letting his eyes adjust when he spots movement in the room. He moves his head, watching the dark form of Mark close up his wardrobe and head towards the bed, head down. Mark climbs into it, shifting the covers around when he realizes Bambam is awake. 

“I didn’t wake you did I?” He asks, sitting up, hands fisted in the blanket. 

“No, just woke up naturally.” Bambam says, sitting up quickly, moving to get out. “I’ll let you have your bed back. Thank you for letting me sleep here, it was really comfortable.”

He cringes, turning his back to Mark when a hand softly lands on his shoulder. He turns, finding Mark stretched out across the bed, letting his hand drop down to the mattress. “Don’t go, stay with me.”

“Are you sure?” Bambam turns back around, legs back under the covers. “Mark, you need to sleep during the day.”

“I do but,” Mark lays down, laying on his side towards him. He stretches a hand out, pulling on Bambam’s shirt. “Stay with me.”

Bambam nods, laying down to face him and reaches his hand out. He finds Mark's hand in the dark, linking their fingers together and it lays between them. Mark stares at it for a while before looking up, finding Bambam half asleep. 

“Mark, I had another question,” He murmurs. 

“You can ask me whatever you want.” He whispers, taking his hand away from Bambam’s and brushes the hair out his face. He slides his fingers down Bambam’s cheek. “I told you, you don’t have to do that.”

“What you told me about your curse isn’t the full thing is it?” 

“No.”

“What is the full thing?” 

Mark shuts his eyes and takes a deep breathing, sighing a bit. “It’s to be alone, unable to find someone that would love a monster. I’m cursed to never find someone that would love me.” 

He watches Bambam blink slowly, losing him to sleep. He mumbles out, causing a pain to start up in Mark’s chest, “I could.” 

“I know,” Mark says, emotion choking him. “I wish you didn’t though, even if that’s all I want. You should have had a better life than loving me.”

“No,” Bambam shifts closer, muffling a yawn. He cups Mark’s face and leans over him, Mark lays on his back, staring up. “This is the life I was meant to have.” 

He leans down, capturing his lips in his. It’s cautious and slow, sleep catching up with Bambam’s movements. Mark brings a hand up, resting it on Bambam’s shoulder and pulls away. Bambam blinks down at him before dropping a kiss onto his forehead. He moves, laying down next to him and hooks an arm over Mark’s waist. He’s out before Mark has a chance to speak, to demand that he kisses him again. He turns his head, looking at his sleeping form and falls asleep some time later. 


	5. Chapter 5

Mark watches as Bambam flips through the book on his lap, eyes trained on the words. He looks down, trying to figure out what book he’s found now, but his eyes flicker back over to his face. He leans in, kissing softly at his jawline and smiles when Bambam sighs. “I’m trying to read.”

“What’s it about?” Mark kisses behind his ear before kissing at his jawline again. 

“Um,” Bambam laughs, “I’m not sure.” 

Mark pulls away, looking down and scans. “You’re reading about crops, is that really what you want to spend your time on?” 

“No,” Bambam shuts it. Mark kissing at his skin again, the book thudding to the floor. “I realized this morning that it’s been three months since I got here and honestly, it feels like years has passed already.” 

Mark stops kissing him, pulling slightly away as the fact settles in. While it has been only three months, Bambam has changed a lot more in the time. He sleeps during the day with him, curled up around his own sleeping form, a bit more open to questioning things and saying things to Mark, and while he’s noticed this, he isn’t sure what it could mean but Bambam’s appetite comes and goes. He makes sure he eats something, something small at least, but Bambam prefers tea to an actual meal. He thinks about how he can go weeks without anything except just something to drink and pushes the idea aside. 

A lot has changed between them but the dreams with Bambam and fangs still visits him every night. Luckily, he presses his lips back down against Bambam’s jawline, the other dreams he’s had is now a normal part of their lives, even if Mark has to stop himself from biting him from time to time. His eyes travel down to the stretched skin on Bambam’s neck and Mark groans slowly. 

Mark pulls away completely, realizing that while they’ve never exchanged the saying, he’s sure that the curse is broken. There’s no doubt in his heart that he’s in love and if Bambam’s actions mean anything, he can say the same for him. He drops back against the couch, running his hands through his already messy hair. 

That’s new, he notes, the care in appearance lately, even he knows that Bambam will get his hands on him sooner or later and the work put in will be gone. 

Bambam whines as Mark doesn’t return back to him, climbing into his lap and straddles him. He pulls Mark into another kiss, hands twisting into the material of Mark’s shirt and opens his mouth. Mark grabs at his waist, carefully exploring his mouth, Bambam hugging him around his neck. The kisses are sloppy, the wet smacking of their lips loud, drawing him in. Bambam pulls away suddenly, Mark chasing after him. 

Mark bites his lip, scanning Bambam’s flushed face. His lips are parted, wet from their kisses and Mark stares at his neck when Bambam drops his head back. His panting overflows Mark’s system, hands grabbing at his hips, as he fights himself from leaning in, sinking himself deep within his skin. Bambam looks down at him, “Would you bite me?”

“What?!” Mark exclaims, all thoughts of biting him paused with the truth that hangs in the air. 

Bambam calms his breathing, taking a deep breath. “I want you to bite me. That’s how I could become a vampire right? If you change me by biting me.” 

“I would hurt you,” Mark pulls him closer. “I don’t want to do that.” 

“But I know you do,” Bambam says, kissing his temple. “I’ve caught you multiple times watching me.”

“Me wanting to bite you because - no that’s not - Bambam it could kill you if I did it wrong.” Mark shakes his head. “Even if I want to, I shouldn’t.” 

They make eye contact, Bambam whispering. “I trust you, I want you to bite me.” 

Mark pulls him back into a kiss, grabbing at his thighs as he slides off the couch. He lays Bambam down, pinning their hips flushed together as he unbuttons his shirt. Bambam helps him slide it off, legs spread as Mark shifts on top of him. He leans up, pushing Bambam’s shirt up and kisses at the tanned skin exposed. He moves up, eyes dilating as he begins mouthing at his neck, lips moving faster and rougher when he gets to the bend of it. 

“Bite me please.” Bambam whimpers, fangs raking across his skin. Mark groans, hips rolling as Bambam moves to give him more access to his neck.

Mark sits up, chest heaving. “I don’t want to bite your neck, I would want to bite you somewhere the mark would be hidden. The scar would be ugly and huge and I don’t want you to see that every time you look at yourself.” He tries to calm himself but all he can hear is Bambam’s heavy breathing and all he can see is the bright pink blush on his cheeks.

“Then…..” Bambam stares up at him, noting the way his fangs shine in the light. “Bite me where you want.” Mark licks his lips, nodding slowly as he unties the strings of Bambam’s pants. Bambam lifts his hips up, letting Mark pull them off and Mark lays down, mouthing at the tanned thigh exposed. “You’ve put a lot of thought about this, didn’t you?” 

“Yeah,” Mark’s voice is deeper than normal, lips wet against his warm skin. He sucks lightly before mouthing at it. “I have…. a lot…." 

“But why there?” Mark moans when he moves further up the inner part of his thigh, sliding the tip of his nose down towards the bend of his knee. He bends Bambam’s leg, having his foot flat against the floor and looks over at him. Bambam gasps, Mark’s eyes are black and hooded. “Mark?”

“The flow of blood is heavier here.” He kisses at his skin again, eyes never leaving Bambam’s face. “There’s so much here.” He kneels up, dropping heavy kisses, mouthing at the skin. “You probably taste so good.” Mark moans loudly. 

Bambam tenses as sharp points of his fangs poke at his muscle. Mark freezes, immediately pulling away, hands fisting in the material of his pants. “I’m sorry, I was too much. I was getting lost in the thought about blood, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let this get this far - Bambam - I’m-”

“I love you.” Mark turns, eyes wide. Bambam leans up on his elbows, eyes soft. Bambam reaches a hand out, Mark taking it cautiously. “I want to be with you, you make me feel less lonely. I know the curse was about you being unloved and alone, but I think it’s done something else for me. I don’t want to be alone in life anymore and neither should you.” 

“I haven’t been.” Mark says, squeezing his hand. “Not since you came here. You don’t have to do this, I would love you to but you don’t have to suffer like me. You being here with me every day is enough.” 

“I want this.” Bambam lays back down, stretching the leg out again, giving Mark room. “I trust you, bite me.”

“I love you too.” Mark leans forward, kissing him quickly before pulling away. He kneels down again, mouthing at Bambam’s skin. He lets his hand wander, finding Bambam’s and links them. “It’s going to hurt, just try not to move.” 

“Okay,” Bambam whispers, taking a deep breath. “Do it.” 

Mark nods, calming himself before surging forward, fangs piercing his skin. A scream is ripped from Bambam’s throat, head thrown back as the pain grows. He tightens his hold on Mark’s hand, squeezing it as he listens to Mark’s moans, a hand holding onto his thigh tightly. A pain floods through his body, shakes following as Mark sucks heavier and heavier. Mark kneels up, a hand landing behind his knee, bringing it up slightly. Losing himself in the way the blood tastes and looks over at Bambam’s face. The fire lights up the sweat covering his face and the way his body slowly shakes. He carefully removes his fangs, licking up the spilling blood and places Bambam’s leg back down softly. 

He moves, leaning over Bambam, breathing heavily as he studies him. Bambam slowly blinks, focusing on the way his blood stains Mark’s face, dripping down his chin. Mark’s eyes search his face quickly, no longer the dark black from before, and a cautious hand comes up into view. Mark moves his top lip back, blinks a few times before a big smile breaks out. He coos, pushing back Bambam’s sweaty bangs from sticking to his face, cups his face and kisses him.

Bambam pulls away, cringing as he feels the blood stick to his face. “My baby vampire, look at them.” 

“What?” Bambam wipes at his mouth. 

“Look at your little fangs,” Mark coos again, kissing him once again. Bambam pushes him weakly. “My Bammie’s little fangs.” 

“Bammie?” Bambam wipes his mouth again. “Stop kissing me, you have my blood all over your mouth.” 

“Sorry!” Mark laughs, hands still cupping his face. “Look at you….” 

Bambam lets his tongue slide against the bottom of his teeth, jumping when he feels the dull points of fangs. He looks back up at Mark and smiles. “I have fangs…”

“Yeah you do!” Mark moves in for a kiss but stops himself. “Let’s clean up, I want to kiss you but I’m a mess and so are you.” 

Mark kneels up, helping Bambam sit up, who immediately almost falls back over. “I’m dizzy.” Bambam pulls Mark into a hug, holding on to him. Mark gets the message, picking him up and moving him over to the couch. 

“Loss of blood.” Mark says, laying him down and soothingly runs his fingers down his cheek. “Let me get cleaned up, then I’ll feed you.”

“With your blood?” Bambam yawns, snuggling into the cushions. 

“No silly, with food.” Mark says, “I’ll be right back.”

He hurries around, pushing the tray back through the library door in minutes. He washes his own face before washing down the wound, kissing it before redressing Bambam. He kisses him, cupping his face and smiles when Bambam hugs him close. Mark helps him lay back down, feeding him slowly. Bambam smiles up at him, eyes heavy with sleep and Mark feels the most alive he’s ever felt since he was a child. He kisses him again, just a sweet small kiss before Bambam pulls him down, the both of them falling asleep. 

~

Bambam leans back into the chair, watching Mark bounce around the kitchen as he attempts to cook them breakfast from memory. He laughs softly, stretching his legs out as Mark places a few bowls on the table in front of them, dropping the ingredients and sits. He gets to work, looking over everything before nodding to himself, a smile on his face. Bambam chews on his lip, fang getting stuck slightly and Bambam groans. He’s still not used to the sharp points, the fangs only growing to their set length the other week.

Mark looks up, coos and reaches over to run his fingers down Bambam’s cheek. “Did they get stuck again?”

“Yeah,” Bambam pouts, bottom lip out.

“You’ll be used to them soon, I promise.” Mark turns back to the bowls, Bambam watching him. It’s only been three months since Mark had bit him that one night in the library, the scar healing up and just lightly there. He places his hand over it, feeling the bumps of it through the material of his pants and smiles. There are nights when Mark tells him that he wishes he could get rid of the scar, so Bambam doesn’t have to see it but he tells him that it’s the physical proof that the curse has been lifted. It had taken it some time to set in for Mark, realizing one day, sitting up in bed, throwing himself into Bambam’s arms and kissing him. Mark holds out a spoon, breaking Bambam’s thought process and he tastes the mixture carefully. He nods, Mark smiling and returns to it. 

He realizes that six months ago, he would have never pictured he would have ended up here. He was sent out to die not to find the love of his life, hidden away, cursed to be unloved. He’s happy that he found the broken path, stumbling in the dark to the door to hide away in the seating room. And he knows that Mark is happy that he never left, helping him find the answer. All it had to do was walk through his front door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and it's done! i hope everyone enjoyed this little fic! i have more fics coming so stick around for those. if you want, i have an au twitter (@flyhigh_95) where i post social media aus (all markbam) ! thanks again!

**Author's Note:**

> i hope everyone has enjoyed reading! the updates will come every other day so it's out before halloween! enjoy, kudos and comments are most welcome!


End file.
